by Wend Petzler
Nicolas reddened at her comment. “Point taken, let us sleep, for the morning will be chaos. I trust you will guard my back as I will yours.” A brilliant smile curved his lips as he viewed her surprise. “You heard me! I trust your sword to keep my backside safe."
Isabella kissed him, wildly happy he trusted her sword to protect him. Sobering, she sat up and punched him in the arm. “Took you long enough to realize I was better suited by your side rather than in a carriage!"
Yawning mightily, Nicolas drew her to his side. “Never again will I force you to ride in a carriage. You will take your rightful place by my side where I can keep you out of trouble.” He chuckled as she scoffed at his humor, snuggling close to his hard body. Sleep swept them into oblivion as worries were laid to rest, the morning would bring its own trouble.
Hours later a pounding on the oak door woke Nicolas from a sound sleep. Lifting his head from the fluffy pillows, he realized someone was requesting entrance. His gaze dropped to the sleeping form of his wife as she continued to softly snore. Groaning, he ordered the intruder to come in. Aggie cheerfully waved at him as she prepared the sunken tub for a bath.
"Morning, my lord, sorry about the early hour, but I have many duties to perform today.” Aggie chuckled when Isabella woke, swearing softly at her as she tossed more wood on the fire. Chuckling, Aggie bustled from the chamber, many chores needing to be done before the king arrived.
"I should have Aggie flogged for being such an early riser.” Isabella growled as she rolled out of bed, heading to the sunken tub, unaware she gave Nicolas a magnificent view of her naked backside as she waited for the hot water to fill the tub.
Laughing, Nicolas joined her in the bath. He lathered her long tresses, lean fingers massaging Isabella's scalp, relaxing her frayed nerves. When he finished, Isabella ducked under the water and rinsed. She lathered a cloth and washed the broad expanse of his back, working the soap through his thick hair. When she finished, Nicolas rinsed the soap out and they abandoned the pool. Towels were laid to warm by the fireplace. Nicolas grabbed one to dry her off, enfolding her in his hungry embrace before setting her free to dress.
She sighed, focusing on what to wear, wanting to surprise her enemies. If she was to be truly honest, Isabella liked wearing gowns, once in awhile. A gown of copper silk attracted her attention, the underskirt burnt red. The Demon Lord usually greeted the guests in full armor, however, due to her marriage Isabella would give the honor to Nicolas.
Isabella was in the act of pulling on her dress when she caught a wondrous view of Nicolas's glorious body as he strode naked to the closet, grabbing clothes for the day. Her breath caught, admiring at the scandalously handsome man she called husband. A smug smile of superior male arrogance curved his beautiful mouth knowing she hungered for him.
"See something you like?” Hot amber eyes bore into her as he shifted, pinning her to the wall with his large frame.
Sticking her nose in the air, Isabella appeared to snub him, trying to keep a straight face. “I know not what you mean, my lord."
"Oh yes, you do!” Nicolas growled softly as he swept her into his arms causing Isabella to laugh uncontrollably as her arms wrapped around his sturdy neck. His warm mouth captured hers, loving the way her lips softened under the demand of his hard mouth, answering his passion with her own.
She sighed as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body. His warm mouth kissing the sensitive skin under her ear, delighted as she shivered from the sensations. Isabella turned in his arms to meet his kisses, halting as fear rose in his amber eyes. “What is wrong?” She whispered, pressing against his hard frame, emerald eyes searching his.
"I want you to remain visible, stay with me or your men. Alden fights without honor, and he would not think twice to use you against me.” Nicolas drew a shaky breath as he held her close to his heart.
"I promise. Do you wish me to change into my armor or remain in a dress, presenting a lulling sense of weakness?” The wicked gleam in her eye caused Nicolas to laugh as he released her to finish dressing.
He thought for a moment how he wished to handle the enemy inside their home. “Arm yourself inconspicuously, let the enemy think you have grown soft and feminine. The day I joust Alden, you will dress in your leathers and chain mail, in case something goes wrong."
Fire crackled in emerald eyes as Isabella placed her slender hands along his face. “You will be victorious! Nothing shall go wrong, I swear it.” She whispered, a harsh contrast as her heart constricted, shying from the real possibility of Nicolas getting hurt.
Nicolas kissed her swift and hard. “I have no intention of losing you to the sadistic bastard. Rest assured, no man will ever touch you as long as I draw breath!"
Isabella wisely kept her mouth shut when Ahmed entered the chamber preparing to shave Nicolas. “I'll wait for you downstairs.” She blew Nicolas a kiss, slipping out the door. She was relieved to see Michael waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze sought out Miles, finding the young man assisting with breakfast.
"How fares the morning?” Isabella asked, smiling as if she had not a care in the world.
"Quite well, in fact knights have been lining up since dawn to sign up.” Michael led her to the table. When Miles disappeared in the kitchens, Michael spoke casually as if they discussed the weather. “The boy is determined to kill Drago, freeing Alden's way to Blood Keep."
Sipping cool ale from the cup he handed her, she pondered the news. “How does he propose to accomplish his goal?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I think he will try to use you as his weapon."
Why the boy was betraying her? “I'll watch my step."
"I have assigned six Demons to ghost you.” Michael drank his ale, noticed Drago striding toward them. He raised his cup in greeting.
"Baron Drago, you will be pleased to know the Tournament of the Demons attendance is at an all time high.” Michael grinned in wolfish delight. “We have many more entrants and guests who wish to see you and Alden joust.” His black eyes bore brutally into Miles as the boy passed by them.
Nicolas did not miss the menacing look Michael cast at the young squire who wisely moved on. An eyebrow arched in question at Isabella who ever so slightly inclined her head in answer. Miles was the rat. “Good, I will greet the newcomers after I eat.” A guilty look crossed his features. Nicolas paused in the middle of scooping porridge into a bowl for Isabella. “I did it again, didn't I? Let me rephrase my statement. I would be honored if you accompanied me today."
Surprised, Isabella nodded as she accepted the bowl from him. “After breakfast I'll go and get a cloak. I shall appear sedate and gentile for our captive audience.” Her eyes sparkled as a seductive gleam came in his amber ones, sweeping over her slender body hungrily.
"I know of one particular outfit befitting my mood, if I had my choice.” Nicolas whispered in her ear.
"And what would that be?” Isabella asked huskily.
"You naked and wrapped around me,” he replied softly, smiling wickedly before kissing her.
Chuckling at his twist of words, Isabella turned her attention to her breakfast. When finished, she kissed him before leaving to retrieve her cloak from their chambers.
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Chapter Twenty
Isabella raced up the stairs and was braiding her hair when a knock sounded on the door, admitting a cautious Miles. Finishing with her hair, she placed a gold circlet upon her head. Grimly watching her squire, the boy appeared to be gathering his courage as he placed her chain mail on the table.
"Do you wish to wear your armor today?” He asked, retrieving her sword. An odd look crossed his freckled features, seeming entranced by the she-demon carved in the hilt, emerald jeweled eyes winked evilly at him.
Isabella faced Miles, a similar glint burning in her eyes, waiting for him to make the first move. “I will forgo my armor today. My sword?” Sweeping the heavy cloak about her shoulders, she fastened
a silver brooch and pin to secure the garment, her nerves taunt.
The sword sang from its steely bed, Miles held the sharp tip to her throat, his eyes burning with hatred. “I believe it's time you stopped ordering me around.” Miles spat, the blade's wicked edge sliding perilously close to her jugular vein.
Nary a muscle twitched as Isabella forced her body to remain calm, she waited patiently for his next move. “Really? What plans do you have, if not as my squire?” She asked sarcastically, seemingly unconcerned by her own sword held dangerously close to her throat.
"I serve another master, myself!” Miles snapped, his eyes cast nervously at the door.
"Who are you?” She asked softly, trying to figure out Mile's role in the ill-happenings at Blood Keep.
"I am Mordred's rightful heir! You will do as I command, and I want you to kill your husband.” A half-mad gleam burned in his eyes, smug at having outwitted Isabella.
Laughing at the ridiculous notion, “Why would I do such a thing?"
An evil glare speared her as the boy answered, “We have your nephew. If you do not kill Drago, bits and pieces of Xander will be found all over England.” Miles snapped, drawing the sword back as if to strike her.
Color drained from her face. Alden had Xander! Scrambling to formulate a plan, Isabella decided to play along. “Why are you doing this?” Isabella demanded, needing to know who all the players were.
"You murdered my father!” Miles hoarsely shouted at her, his face mottled red from the tormenting anguish he felt, the agonizing loss of his father driving him near to madness.
"I never laid a hand on Mordred,” she calmly replied, watching the sword tremble in Mile's hand from the intense wrath the boy felt.
"You took him from me and my mother. I was to be the rightful heir to Blood Keep, not you! Drago should never have married you. I shall regret his death for he is a great knight and will be missed.” Miles defensively positioned himself between her and the door.
Fury rose inside Isabella as she reminded the boy of her own losses. “Your father murdered my only sister! I regret your mother suffered, but the man died not by my hand, but his own when he convulsed from seizures.” Isabella shot back.
"I heard the truth from Gabriel as he told Drago how you goaded my father into a helpless rage.” Miles scoffed at her attempt to delude him.
"Did you not also hear what your father did to Gabriel and my sister? How can you justify kidnapping Xander, your own half-brother, to avenge your father who was a vile rapist and a murderer?” Isabella demanded of the silent young man.
"Alden says it is your word against the knights loyal to Mordred. He swears that you lied to Edward so you could rule Blood Keep. I trust Alden for he has taken care of me since my mother died of a broken heart! You will feel pain as she did when Drago dies by your own hand.” The boy's bony chest heaved when a knock on the door interrupted him. “Follow my orders and no harm will come to Xander. I wish not to harm my brother, but I am sworn to clear my father's name of the lies you spread about him."
Isabella allowed the despair to show on her drawn features, appearing to be defeated. “I will do as you command. Drago will die. I can't allow Xander to be harmed. He is the only family I have left.” Tears coursed down her cheeks as she appeared to accept her fate.
A vengeful expression crossed his freckled features. “Ironic is it not, you took my father from me, and I've taken Xander from you. Do try to be civil to my uncle when he arrives, if you want your nephew to live.” Miles threatened, tossing her sword back to her as he went to open the door, dodging past Ahmed who frowned at the fleeing boy.
She caught the sword's hilt, slamming the blade home in the scabbard. Schooling her features to remain neutral, Isabella swore she was going to beat the little devil within an inch of his worthless life when Xander was safe.
"Drago requests your presence downstairs."
Nodding, Isabella marched past him, jaw clinched tight from screaming her rage at their predicament. Entering the hall, her expression lightened, appearing happy and unconcerned, except when her eyes met Mile's, promising death, satisfied when he nervously dropped his gaze.
Miles felt the first tremors of fear invade his confidence. Trying to justify his actions, Miles desired to clear his father's name, but at the same time tried to convince himself Isabella was a puppet knight, a figure placed before the Black Army. But, the young man knew deep in his heart, he had made a dangerous enemy today.
Nicolas watched Isabella stride to him, pride filling him. She was dangerous and hauntingly beautiful even in a dress. When Gabriel and Michael stepped in stride behind her, Isabella was indeed powerful as she gripped the sheathed Demon sword in hand.
A brilliant smile curved her soft lips as she rose on her toes to press a kiss on his warm mouth. “Ready?” She asked, still holding the scabbard in hand, not donning it.
He offered his arm to her, leading her to the courtyard. “Why is everyone staring at you?"
"No one has ever seen me in a dress before."
He halted in his tracks. “Are you telling me no one has ever known you were the Demon Lord?"
"I conducted Blood Keep's military business wearing that hideous helm. Ordinarily, I wore my leather tunic and hose. No one realized I was one and the same.” Isabella glanced about darkly as she took Lucifer's reins from the stable boy. She fastened her sword belt to the saddle, making sure it was safely secured.
Nicolas pulled her in a tight embrace. “Watch your back! Alden is not far from the castle.” He lowered his mouth hungrily to hers, kissing Isabella to the amazement of bystanders.
Emerald eyes gazed up at him, shining in love and adoration. “I have no worries with you guarding me.” Isabella whispered in his ear.
Clearing his throat, Nicolas lifted Isabella astride her stallion. Swinging up on his warhorse, his sharp eyes scanning the walls as archers and guards walked the ramparts fully armed, keeping a close eye for anyone acting suspiciously.
People cleared out of their way as they rode down where the merchants plied their wares and knights strutted, showing off, seeing who could be tougher. News spread like wildfire through camps, booths, nobles alike, the reclusive Lady Isabella wore a beautiful gown and was oddly carrying the Demon's sword. Where was the Demon Lord? Many asked this question, confused as they watched the couple ride by.
Pride filled him as Isabella rode with dignity, inclining her head to those she knew. The she-demon hilt of her sword appeared to wink an emerald eye at him, as if laughing at the reactions of the people visiting Blood Keep as did Isabella.
"Are we having fun?” Nicolas asked Isabella, whose mouth twisted in amusement as young knights pointed in her direction.
"Indeed,” Isabella replied as she patted Lucifer's neck as the warhorse pranced, tossing his fine head, showing off. Bits and pieces of conversation floated about as they rode through the gathering crowds.
One knight spoke to his friend, “Why is not the Demon Lord here?"
His friend replied equally shocked, “I had hoped to challenge the Demon after he defeated me last year in the sword competition. Why would the Demon Lord let a woman take his sword and horse? Christ Jesu, the man's not dead, is he?” The confused knight remembered his manners and bowed formally to Isabella.
Nicolas looked at her, puzzled. “What was that all about?” He became increasingly more curious as Isabella blushed, chagrined at being reminded of her past actions.
"Last year we had a problem. The young man who had just earned his spurs and was showing off, which is quite usual, however, he boasted how he could defeat the Demon Lord in the sword ring.” Isabella tried to make light of the event until Michael rode up.
A grin lightened his dark, good-looking features. “Isabella kicked his ass soundly, the boy spent several days in the infirmary."
She turned beet red as Nicolas grinned proudly at her. “That's my wife!"
Shaking her head, thinking they were crazy when Brandon hailed the rid
ers. “How many have signed up?” She asked as he approached.
"We have broken the record from last year and it is only mid-morning!” Well pleased with the turn out, he was about to add more when the horns on the tower blew, announcing the arrival of the King.
Surprised at the King's early arrival, Nicolas prepared to ride to meet Edward when Isabella stayed him.
"I will join you in a moment."
He wanted to ask why, but held back, trusting her judgment. “Don't be long!” Nicolas drew her to him, kissing her parted lips before he and Ahmed rode to greet the king, and his party.
Michael urged his horse beside Lucifer, peering at Isabella, concerned. “What's up?"
"I had a nice chat with my former squire. Alden demands I kill my husband, and in exchange, he will give Xander back to me unharmed.” Isabella spoke softly as she smiled, waving at familiar people.
The dark knight struggled to maintain a calm composure. “What will we do?” Michael asked, fierce, black eyes studying the curious faces of the people walking past them.
"It gets better. Miles is Mordred's illegitimate son, and the boy wants revenge for me killing his father.” Isabella smiled grimly, leaving Michael more upset.
"What the hell are we going to do?” Michael demanded, frustrated by the endless games with the lives of their loved ones.
"I've agreed to kill Drago."
"What!"
Glaring at him, “Not really, I just said I would to stall for time. I know once I've fulfilled my part of the bargain, Miles will be sent to carry out Alden's instructions of what is to be done to Xander. I want Demons positioned in the woods near the secret entrance, remaining hidden. We'll capture the little bastard and get Xander's location before Drago jousts with Alden.” Isabella struggled to keep the rage at bay, her eyes narrowing as King Edward and his party rode through the gate.
Edward wore full armor, riding a magnificent, white stallion, his pennants streaming in the brisk wind. An impressive figure, his intense brown eyes surveyed the courtyard, searching for his cousin, finding his champion riding up to him. “Ho, Drago! Well met, my friend, how fares you?” Edward asked, grinning broadly.
